Hold On To Me Tonight
by so.indecisive
Summary: and suddenly she was stuck in a downward spiral, on her way to rock bottom. and he was the only one that could help her see that and pick her back up.
1. Prologue

Hold On To Me Tonight  
>Prologue<p>

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><p>Vance Evans looked at his daughter's face after presenting her with a pearly, crisp white Cadillac. Beige leather interior included, with the signature 'SE' initials imbedded with Swarovski diamonds into the seat heads, and center of the steering wheel.<p>

"Wow...thank you, daddy!" She looked up to him after a full examination. The petite blonde shook her head and swallowed hard. There was no particular reason she was just presented with this generous gift; there wasn't a musical she was starring in currently, there wasn't anything to apologize for to use it, it wasn't her birthday, she didn't get a good mark on her report card, she didn't contribute to society or do anything out-of-the-ordinary nice. In all her 17 years of existence she was never presented with a gift _just because_. So, what did this gift mean then? Nothing good. She had it all figured out at this point. The personalized, white 2011 Cadillac with diamond tricoat was a way to butter her up, keep her happy for the mean time and have intentions to give her some materialistic comfort with the bomb he was about to drop before her.

"You're welcome, darling."

"So," Sharpay Evans turned and looked at him, chestnut eyes wide and lost, "Did someone die or something? What's going on?"

Letting out a brief and uneasy chuckle, he shook his head and slipped his hands into his pockets, taking a step towards her. "No, pumpkin, listen," He drew an arm around her shoulders in comfort for a moment before trying to look her straight in the eye, "Your mother and I...well...we're getting...a divorce. We're splitting up."

And there was the bomb. "W-what?" She was speechless. She couldn't even comprehend. Their family was perfect. Two loving parents to two gorgeous children, wealthy and fully supported, all had a bright future. They'd all do a game of golf at the family country club, all sit down and have family dinners, review the day, smile at one another genuinely, and rarely raise a voice in argument. They were the perfect family, or so she thought. But apparently, that was all a lie.

"Shar, listen, we're..."

"No..." She interrupted him. Feeling her gaze grow hazy, she forced her frozen body into the brand new car and shook him off, backing away quickly.

"Sharpay, stay here please, we need to talk about this. I want to talk to you." Vance said, holding the door open before she could shut it.

Looking at him with a creased forehead and furrowed brows, she shook her head, "I don't want to talk to you...or anyone for that matter..." And she gripped the door handle to yank it shut.

Turning the key in the ignition, she started the Cadillac up, hearing the fresh engine roar and quickly took off out of the premises of the Evans manor. Her throat was dry and for possibly the first time in her life, she craved the thick burning sensation of alcohol to fight it's way down her throat and numb her finger tips, lips, her whole body, all of her emotions. "It's five o'clock somewhere." She muttered, a tick formed in her clenched jaw as she choked down tears.

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><p>Author's Note: So this is just the prologue but if I do choose to continue this and I get enough interestreviews, it will be Troypay as you already know from the description, though he also won't be coming in until the chapter after the next one. So, what do ya'll think?


	2. One Too Many

A/N: I'm not sure why, but after a year I had the sudden urge to continue to write this. So for the few people who were following this, I truly apologize that I haven't posted this sooner. I appreciate everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter and I get up another chapter in the closer future.

Hold On To Me Tonight  
>Chapter Two<p>

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><p>Sharpay Evans stared at the empty glass in front of her waiting for the waiter to take it away so she wouldn't have to be reminded of how much she had drank. Truth be told, she had lost count and knew as soon as she were to stand up from her seated position, she'd instantly lose balance. She was drinking away her feelings, correction, she <em>had drank<em> away her feelings at this point.

The booth she was hiding away in at the Lava Springs Bar and Restaurant had become her cave, no one could see her curled up at the table and she could barely see out. It was partially because she wanted to be secluded from the world, and partially because she was underage and drinking the day away because this was the first place she could think of. With her father owning the place and a generous tip, the workers chose not to start an argument over it, and anything else for that matter, with Sharpay.

"You know, I'm going to have to cut you off eventually."

Speaking of arguments. Her chestnut orbs glared into her waiter's eyes, Javier or something was his name. He was practically one of her many servants last summer. "You're probably going to be fired eventually too." She mumbled.

Javier took the empty glass and looked at her glossed over eyes. "I'm trying to help you out here and do what's best for you."

With a harsh glare, invisible daggers left her eyes to pierce his. "First of all, the number one rule for all staff is to make sure all members are pleased. Secondly, my father owns this place. You do whatever I want you to do." She choked, saying the word father brought his face from the afternoon back into her head. Trying to push it out, she shook her heavy head, letting her blond waves fall in front of her face. "Just top me up." With that, she pushed a folded bill in his direction and looked down to her phone.

She kept getting messages on her phone; mainly from both her parents and Ryan, a random one from Kelsi and a few from her other minions, or in correct terminology, her Sharpettes. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head at that term, wondering why and when she had ever used it. She hated it. She hated everything right now. Deciding not to even respond to anyone, she put her phone away, anticipating the arrival of her next drink to get the thought of her family out of her pounding head once again.

"Hey Princess."

Sharpay looked up, confused to see one of her classmates with her drink in their hand. "Personal delivery? What do you want Cross?" She spat, taking ahold of the drink and questioning the safety of it. For all she knew he probably threw roofalin in there or some other hard drug because she knew he had a stock pile of all that somewhere. It was yet to become a known fact that Jason Cross was a recognized drug dealer; only she and a few other people knew so, definitely not the basketball team or he'd be kicked out of there in a matter of seconds, let alone the school itself.

"Relax, it's clean."

She barely hesitated to take a gulp, though in her sober state it would've been a different story. At this point she didn't care, she didn't care about much. "What do you want?" She asked again, playing with the stem of the glass. "Shouldn't you be working or something?"

"I heard around that you were here, getting trashed in the utmost classiest of ways; in her daddy's country club."

She clenched her teeth together, forming a tick in her jaw, feeling heat raise from her neck. "You can leave now." She ordered.

"I'm actually here to make a business pitch." His brows bounced in amusement, though Sharpay didn't care about anything that was spilling from his mouth until she saw him pull out a little plastic baggie with a white powder inside. "You look a little down in the dumps, like you need a pick me up."

She stared at it with a perfectly waxed raised brow. She had barely gotten drunk and never done any form of drug, not even a tiny puff of marijuana. The phrase 'my body is a temple' were words she lived by but for some reason she couldn't say no. Her eyes were glued to the baggie and she had a great desire to take it from his hand. "How much do you want?"

He slipped it back in his pocket before looking around. "I thought we could make a little bargain. Let's take this outside." Jason said before standing up and offering his hand out to her to help her out of the booth.

A scoff escaped her pink lips at the offered hand and she pulled herself up to a standing position only to nearly fall onto him. Her legs felt like they weren't hers and the room was spinning. Her stomach churned and she breathed through her nose. "Get me out of here." She muttered with his arm around her waist, walking swiftly around to the back entrance where little eyes laid upon them and no questions were asked.

Somehow they had made it her car. Only a few hours ago, she thought it was beautiful and had fallen instantly in love with it. Now, she hated it. She saw lies in the sleek reflection of the white diamond tricoat finish. It made her sick to her stomach.

"So what do you think?" He held up the bag of cocaine.

"How much do you want for it?"

"Well," He moved in closed to her, backing her up against the car she so much as loathed. "I thought we could make a little compromise." His voice rang less than an inch away from her ear before he kissed her neck.

She held back a scoff in disgust and stayed completely still, not sure what he was doing. She felt his hands run along her slender frame and then up to where she felt him swiftly tuck the small plastic baggie under her bra strap and attacked her with his lips. His body was nearly two times larger then hers, toned, and held her down; she held no chance of escaping whatever his 'compromise' meant.

"Ok, Jason." She pushed his face away which didn't do anything. "Get off of me." Struggling, she pulled at his hair, trying little things that may hurt him and give her some distance from him.

"You like it rough, huh?" He growled into her ear, letting his lips glide along her neck and collarbone.

"I'm being serious!" Her voice hitched and she could feel hot tears fill her eyes, but she wasn't going to cry, because Sharpay Evans rarely ever cried because it showed weakness. All she did was close her eyes, holding back any form of waterworks.

"Jason!"

She heard a yell through her shut eyes and suddenly felt completely free.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

There he was, the Golden Boy; Troy Bolton. Perfect, unruly brown hair, glowing blue cerulean eyes, perfectly toned body. She scoffed at his sight before breathing heavily through her nose and shook her head, not believing that all of this was happening. Maybe it was just a bad dream that she'd wake up from in the morning and she'd be lying in her perfect bed, in her perfect house, with her perfect family. But this was reality.

Taken by her own thoughts, she sunk down to the gravel and leaned against the tire. She blocked out everything; whatever was going on with Troy and Jason only a few feet in front of her, she ignored it and the only thing she could do was cry. She couldn't hear anything but her thoughts, couldn't feel anything but her tears. Warm, salty tears were streaming down her tanned complexion and her fuzzy gaze stayed lowered, mixed with emotions. There were too many emotions going on but one conquered all; anger. Standing up, she dug in her purse for her keys and unlocked the door, slamming it shut as soon as she felt the seat underneath her, gripping the steering wheel.

"Sharpay!" Troy called, realizing what was going on. After getting rid of Jason, threatening him with his placement on the basketball team on the line, which was the only thing Jason had, Troy turned his focus onto Sharpay. Opening the door to her car, she took hold of both her arms, away from the gear shift and steering wheel. "Get out of the car. You're drunk. Don't do this to your car and don't do this to yourself."

She felt her body literally being pulled out and she stood directly in front of Troy and the first time in a long time, she actually made eye contact with him, and it was the furthest thing from a glare. Her head shook and she wiped the remaining tears on her cheeks. "I don't know what's going on."

"Come on," He said hesitantly, not even sure what was going on himself with the whole situation in the last two minutes. "I just finished my shift, I can take you home. We can pick up your car tomorrow." The Golden Boy said to her. He had never seen the girl so vulnerable and hurt, so naturally to a girl that hated almost everyone in the school on put on possibly the biggest front in being an 'Ice Queen', he didn't know how to respond.


	3. The Hangover

A/N: All I really want to say is a special thanks for all who have read this and continued, an even more special thanks to my recent reviewers CreativeWritingSoul, heavenxxbaby, and Cheer Girl 97, very much appreciated.

Hold On To Me Tonight  
>Chapter 3<p>

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><p>As the sun cracked through the drapery in her bedroom, she rolled over to avoid the sliver of light that was laying directly over her left eye. However, as soon as she moved her petite body in the large bed, she felt herself wake up, immediately regretting drinking last night, or at least mixing hard liquor and beer. She could finally say she understood the phrase 'beer before liquor, never sicker.'<p>

Her eyes opened to little slits and she stared at the door to her washroom; it seemed miles away, though in fact it was only several feet. "I need to get up." Sharpay told herself, slowly lifting herself up. Her bare legs slipped from under the covers and were placed on the cold wood flooring, a nice contrast from her heated body temperature.

As soon as she lifted herself off the bed it felt as if she had been hit with a 4 ton brick. She fell back down to her bed and clutched her stomach. Her brain felt like it was double the size and trying to crack through her skull through any means possible. The weight of her head sunk into one of her pillows and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing out tiny drops of tears to roll down both sides of her face. She had the worst headache in the world, she felt like she was going to throw up, she couldn't even move without feeling nauseous, and the only time she was remotely comfortable was the laying position she was in right now; she felt like dying. She was officially hungover.

It took all her strength to reach over to her bedside table in retrieve of her phone. Sliding the unlock button on the screen she looked through her messages that she didn't even want to answer, once again.

Few from Ryan asking where she was and how she was.

Another from him saying he was worried.

A few from her Dad trying to butter her up again and attempt to make her somewhat feel better. Another from him saying he was leaving early in the morning for a business trip and would like to say goodbye to her.

Another one from him saying that it was too late.

There were a few from her Mom saying the same thing, trying to show her apparent love for the hungover blonde.

The list kept on going on and on, pointless messages filled her phone.

Just as she was about to turn it off and fall back to sleep, in hopes to cure the hangover, a message popped up on the screen.

_Troy Bolton_

She cringed, mainly at the thought that it was Troy Bolton texting her for some unknown reason, but also because foggy memories from the previous night began flooding into her head. Her pounding head.

Vaguely she remembered the car ride home, he drove her and it was completely silent. The only sound that came from either of them was saying goodbye and all she could recall from that was dashing inside to her room and collapsing to her bed. She didn't remember what he said and didn't remember what she, herself, said. She cringed again, initiating another blast of a headache, almost positive the little people inside her head were hammering out her skull like miners.

Finally succumbing to reading the text from him, she tapped 'view' as the full message popped up.

_Hey, I said I'd take you to pick up your car today so was wondering if you wanted to do that before of after school, either way I can pick you up and drive you to Lava Springs or to school._

The glow from her phone that was lighting her face was only adding to her hangover. Her brain was melting from the light, eyes being scorched. She squinted hard and typed as fast as she could in reply.

_I'd rather eat dirt._

The thought of her showing up to school, coming out of his car was horrible. More so the fact that everyone in school would see her walking out of that hunk of junk Troy Bolton called his car. But also, she would possibly have to face discussing events of the night with him, and him asking how she was feeling. She knew if one more person asked her how she was feeling, she was going to snap.

And just as she felt herself dozing off to sleep she heard a knock on her door, immediately awakening her.

"Shar?"

She rolled her eyes and remained quiet.

"Shar, are you in there?" Her twin brother called through the door, trying the locked handle.

When was he going to get the hint? She didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want to talk to anyone. The sound of his voice was slightly haunting. The last time she heard it was in the thought that their family was perfect and so was everything else. It all seemed to be a ticking time bomb; slowly, everything was falling apart. Laying completely still, she made sure not to make any remote sound of a noise, feeling herself drift off to hangover dreamland.

/

Before the bell was a calming time for everyone to catch up with one another before they'd complain about a day full of learning would start. Troy Bolton stood at his locker with his usual gang, folded arms across his chest while in particular this morning, his mind wasn't on the usual pointless conversation and dread of class that it normally was on, or his friends.

"Dude, what's bugging you? You're being weird." His best friend asked, shaking his head to bounce about the tight, dark brown curls.

"Hm?" Troy looked over, running a hand through his own unruly hair, messing it up as he looked from Chad to Jason. "Work was a bit weird last night." His brow raised.

Chad looked from Troy to Jason, left in the dark as to the tension that had apparently grown between the two. They were looking intently at each other, like one could throw a punch and yell any second, just waiting for who would be the first person to do so. "What? Ok, what's with the weird, spirited eye contact you two are making right now?"

"It's getting weird." Zeke added in, noticing what was going on as well.

"Can we stop saying the word 'weird' now?" Jason intervened, changing the topic and breaking the eye contact before looking at the two other guys who were excluded in the information that was going on.

Apathetically, Troy shrugged, staring down the hall as he saw a certain blonde twin. "I'll see you guys later." He said before shrugging on his backpack and jogging down the hall. "Hey! Ryan!"

The blonde turned around startled, "Oh, Troy, hi?" Not exactly sure what kind of conversation Troy was going to spark up, since the only thing they ever did was upcoming theatre work or petty small talk about how school was going.

"Is Sharpay here today?" He looked around; normally the two entered the school together, Sharpay about two inches in front of her twin to part the red sea that was the students crowded by the entrance; but today it was just Ryan, unnoticed by his peers without his twin.

Ryan looked at him cynically. "I don't know." As soon as Troy returned the look of skepticism back, he eased up and lowered his voice, "I don't think she came home last night."

"What do you mean? I drove her home from Lava Springs."

"Why did you drive her home and why was she at Lava Springs?"

With his reply, he realized Ryan knew nothing about Sharpay's antics for the last 24-hours. He didn't know she had gotten drunk in their family country club, he didn't know about Jason forcing himself upon her, he didn't know she wanted to drive home intoxicated, and he didn't know about her mini breakdown.

"Uh," Troy started, wondering how much he should say and if he should say anything at all. "Her car wouldn't start and I don't know about Lava Springs, I'm guessing she went to the spa?"

"Oh. Okay." Ryan said, unfazed, staring at Troy.

"I'll see you later man."

/

Sharpay could still feel that her face was clad in yesterdays makeup and clothes, she felt disgusting. A part of her was trying to force herself to go take a shower, with the reward of another nap, but another part of her was forcing her body to stay in her bed. She felt helpless and pathetic, eating ice cubes because that was the only thing her stomach could handle at this point. A part of her was almost tempted to drink some more because apparently, drinking more alcohol was the best way to beat a hangover, and to drown her feelings once again, but she couldn't even think about that word without her stomach churning and head pounding.

She reached for her phone, deciding to check it for only the second time today. Lo and behold, the last person she wants a message from, messaged her, again. Only months ago, she would've jumped at the chance of a texting conversation with him, and taken the opportunity to seduce and conquer Troy Bolton, but things have changed, as of yesterday.

Opening the message, she read; _Why didn't you go to school today?_

_I took a personal day._ She replied.

_You don't get 'personal days' for school...what's wrong?_ He replied only minutes later.

_None of your beeswax, Kwame._ She retorted.

_What?_

_I don't know, I just Google-ed the worst basketball player in the NBA and his name popped up. I was simply making a metaphoric comparison. Now leave me alone and stop texting me, Bolton._

That was the last text message she was going to send, hoping he'd take the hint. As a chance to avoid her phone, she threw it in her bed and rolled around to get comfortable.

_Ting, ting!_

She heard her phone go off one last time, realizing she hadn't silenced it and searched her bed once more for the device. As her hand grabbed something unfamiliar, she pulled it from under the covers and stared at it. There in her palm was the little, clear baggie with the white powder inside. She stared at it. Hard. Thoughts wondering in her head. Considering it. Poking the bag as she watched her finger make an indent in the powder. She clutched it in her closed hand and with a raised brow, she quickly tossed it in the drawer to one of her bedside tables.


End file.
